


Without My Sinful Touch

by Wickedtruth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinks, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wickedtruth/pseuds/Wickedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam comes harder than anyone, male or female, that Dean's gone to bed with before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without My Sinful Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by vampyreranger and Silverraven.

m comes harder than anyone, male or female, that Dean's ever gone to bed with. Even small orgasms have him jumping and twitching, hips out of control. He gasps and pants the whole time, breathy noises that sound almost like sobs spilling out of his mouth while his dick pumps all over Dean's hand or in his mouth.

It makes quick and dirty sex in semi-public places almost impossible, and if Sam's fucking him, there are certain positions Dean won't allow, because while he likes the way Sam's hips stutter and jerk when he comes, Dean also likes to be able to sit down without wincing afterwards. Sometimes, Sam's knees unlock when he's shooting his brains out of his dick, meaning that more than once they've ended up on the floor, and Dean's had to dodge the odd flailing arm or knee. Still, he's pretty sure that that's a fair trade for coming so damned hard you practically pass out.

But fuck if seeing Sammy come like a freight train doesn't make Dean feel like some kind of sex god.

It's even better when Sam's got something in his ass; tongue, fingers, Dean's cock, a vibrator. And Jesus, the first time they tried that thing, Sam actually came without Dean putting a hand or mouth on his dick. He'd seemed as surprised as Dean was when the come started dribbling out of his cock, breath catching as if he was choking, eyes wide and skin flushed red from forehead to chest. Dean hadn't thought Sam's orgasms could get any more intense, but apparently he'd been wrong. Sam'd practically folded himself in half and if Dean hadn't known better, he'd have thought Sam was in pain from the noises he made. Dean had damn near followed him over the edge when he thought what it would be like to be fucking Sam when he came like that.

Dean hasn't been able to repeat that feat yet, but it isn't for a lack of trying. For some reason, Sam's less enthusiastic about Dean's attempts, which Dean just doesn't get. Dean gets to watch Sam come and know that he's the cause and Sam gets a spectacular orgasm without having to do any work.

So now that they've finished their latest job and there's nothing else on the immediate horizon, Dean's gonna put this down time to good use.

He's got Sam spread across the bed, hands twisted in the thin sheets, gasping and shivering already, just from Dean's mouth around his dick and Dean's finger fucking into him. Every so often Dean slides his mouth down, lapping around Sam's balls, nibbling at his tender inner thighs and sometimes, licking around his finger as he pushes it deeper into Sam. It makes Sam go absolutely nuts when Dean does that, makes him twist his hips and throw his head back.

Dean's been teasing Sam for what feels like hours, and his own dick is a steady throb, but he can wait because this time, because he's going to fuck Sam until he comes, no hand on his dick, just Dean inside him, however long that takes.

He never uses more than one finger to prep Sam, knows that his brother loves the feel of being forced open by Dean's cock alone, but he needs to get Sam as close as he can before he gives Sam what he knows his brother really wants. The blowjob's messy as hell, spit and that disgusting cherry flavoured lube that Sam likes dribbling everywhere. Dean loves it when sex is messy and slippery and dirty, likes leaving sticky handprints over Sam's skin; little markers to show where he's been. They're the only marks he allows himself to put on Sam's skin. They spend far too much of their time out of bed dealing with bruises, cuts and other injuries that he's got no intention of adding any more, no matter how tempting the thought of Sam wearing Dean's marks sometimes is.

When Sam starts panting like he's been running a marathon, Dean knows his brother is as ready as he's going to get. He licks up the length of Sam's cock one last time, sliding his tongue through the slit. Sam shudders and curses, one hand dropping onto Dean's head, short nails scratching over his scalp. Dean shakes the hand off and slowly slides his finger out of Sam, making sure he curls the tip as he does. Sam whines and Dean shivers, imagining the noises that Sam's going to be making once Dean's started fucking him.

Sam makes a token protest as Dean pulls and shoves him into the position he wants, but he's too desperate to protest much. It's not easy to get Sam where he wants him, but Dean's determined. He knows it was worth it when he's finally got them in position. He's on his back, Sam above him, back to Dean's chest, the weight of his upper body supported by his arms braced on either side of Dean's chest. Dean's head is propped up on a couple of pillows, and if he cranes his head a little to the side he can see past Sam's arm and watch the pair of them in the full length mirror bolted to the wall opposite them. Sam had scoffed when he'd seen it there the first night they stayed here, but Dean's first thought had been that it was in the perfect place to be visible from the bed. And once the idea of watching himself fucking Sam, watching him come just on the feel of Dean's cock in him lodged itself in Dean's head, he was determined that they weren't leaving this motel until he'd done just that.

From the sounds Sam's making, he's just figured out why Dean wanted them in this position and he's not entirely happy about it, although Dean suspects that he wouldn't have any problem if their positions were reversed. Dean distracts him with gentle nips and soft kisses on his neck and shoulders, and fingers stroking up the inside of Sam's thighs and cradling his balls. Sam's head drops back and he rolls his hips. Dean's dick rides the crack of Sam's ass and he feels the spike of pleasure all the way down to his toes. Dean's cock is slick with cherry lube and he can't help thrusting up a couple of times, just to torment them both some more.

Finally, he can't stand it any longer. It doesn't take much to get them lined up. He has to go slow at first, because Sam's had hardly had any prep and while he knows that Sam likes being split open like this, Dean won't risk hurting him. It's absolute torture though; Sam's tight and hot and he's making these god dammed gasping noises above Dean that are hotter than any porn track. Dean bites his lip and eases up into Sam in steady, shallow thrusts until at last, Sam's body just opens up around him and he's as deep inside Sam as he can get.

Sam's breath hitches again and Dean takes a deep breath himself. He moves his head so he can see them both in the mirror, lifts Sam's hips and just fucking goes for it. He can hear the thump of his own heartbeat, and over that, the sound of Sam's stuttered groans and the soft, slick noise as he fucks Sam as hard as he can.

He can see his dick, driving in and out of Sam, see the way Sam's cock, hard and still shiny with lube and spit, bounces against his stomach as Dean's thrusts rock him. He watches the way Sam's thighs tense, the way he strains to hold himself up. Dean fucking loves whoever thought of putting a mirror on the wall so it can be seen from the bed. He can watch himself fucking Sam, watch his own hands stroking over Sam's skin, pinching his nipples and dropping down to the place where his dick is spreading Sam open. He rubs a finger around the soft skin that's stretched almost obscenely wide by his dick. Sam shudders above him and Dean drives up faster, lost to everything but the need to come, thighs burning with the punishing pace he's setting.

He's just reaching for Sam's cock, his original plan shot to hell by the way his own orgasm is creeping steadily up his spine when Sam starts to babble, 'fuck' and 'God' and 'Dean, Christ, _Dean_ '. Dean grits his teeth and the hand that was going for Sam's cock cups his balls instead and Dean slows the jackhammer of his hips and switches to hard, deep strokes. He knows the exact moment Sam starts to come. He can see in the mirror the way Sam's cock jumps just before the first drops of come spill out and the way Sam flushes red across his neck and chest. He can hear it in the gasps and groans and he can feel it in the way Sam's body ripples around him. And he was right, it is absolutely fucking incredible.

Sam's telling him to keep going, but nothing on earth could stop Dean now because he's already coming, muscles clenching and straining against his brother, who's still shuddering and jerking above Dean. Dean slams his teeth together so hard that he's distantly afraid he's going to break one, but he doesn't care because right now it feels as though he's never going to stop coming and Sam's still half hard, almost flinching every time Dean drives back into him, hard enough to bruise them both, and Dean's sure that they're both going to still be feeling this by tomorrow morning, but Jesus _fuck_ , he hasn't come that hard, ever.

Eventually he has to stop moving and a few seconds later, Sam slides off of Dean's dick, and shuffles sideways, like a giant crab. He collapses next to Dean and Dean can't help the way his cock twitches when he sees how Sam's arms and legs are trembling. He reaches out a hand and rests it on Sam's hip. They're both sticky with lube and sweat and come and they'll need a shower, but right now, Dean doesn't think they could move even if a herd of trolls came barging into the room.

They are definitely, definitely going to do this again. Dean's pretty sure he could fit a full-length mirror in the Impala's trunk, after all.


End file.
